


Dancing (around each other)

by Curlsandcollege



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Annette's Perfectionism, Cathartic Dancing, Cute, Dancing, F/M, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea friendship, Felix's foot further into his mouth every time he speaks, Fluff, Ingrid says she won't get involved in her friend's bullshit, War Phase, dancer annette, that old faerghus repression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlsandcollege/pseuds/Curlsandcollege
Summary: “If anything it was like a game, a new form of battle or strategy. He could counter a lance or an axe, and dodge a magical attack with ease. He was simply learning the art ofTalking to Annette Without Getting Yelled At.”Felix works up the courage to ask Annette to dance. The issue isn’t the dancing, he’s a noble, he’ll be fine. It’s more… Annette.Annette who is talented and beautiful and confusing. Annette who yelled at him just that morning when he was trying to be helpful but stumbled over his words.He probably deserved it.He doesn't deserve her.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 18
Kudos: 75
Collections: That Old Faerghus Repression





	Dancing (around each other)

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted these nerds to dance with each other.

Faerghans were not a particularly lively bunch. However, soldiers demanded entertainment because those who were not named  _ Felix Hugo Fraldarius  _ were never satisfied with focusing their free time on the important work of training hard enough to stay alive.    
  
During the ransacking- err, inventorying of Garreg Mach some soldiers uncovered a store of instruments stacked high in a spare room and rustled enough decently talented musicians to create whatever… this was.    
  
A dance. A party of sorts. Food was low but there was enough contraband alcohol hidden in nearly every corner of Garreg Mach to keep everyone in some level of merriment.    
  
Felix stood on the back ledge of the dining hall, looking over the dancers below. He started the night half betting with Sylvain about who would fall into the pond first, but Sylvain had been dragged away by one of the women in the Dancer battalion and so now Felix watched alone. He liked music well enough, and it was fun to be somewhere so loud he couldn’t hear himself think anymore. His thoughts were far too distracting lately, screaming anxieties he refused to acknowledge, especially knowing a true monster was lurking in the Cathedral.    
  
The location of this merriment being as far away from their prince as possible while still within the defendable walls was not lost on Felix. 

“You know, she loves to dance.” Ingrid appeared from behind him, her shorn hair braided into some elaborate style he was sure she didn’t do herself.    
  
Felix knew exactly who  _ she _ was and his heart skipped a beat at his failure. Was he that obvious? Yes, probably. He’d been a blushing mess at sword practice earlier, Ingrid had been observing their bout for a while. Ingrid could be obtuse about a lot of things but they were almost siblings once. She still had a little bit of that sibling like mischief with him when she saw an opening. He tried not to enjoy it.    
  
“Oh?” He said calmly, not showing her anything even as his eyes immediately trailed back to where he was  _ not _ watching Annette’s casual dress flare out around her hips as she spun.    
  
Ingrid barreled on in her deduction, as if Felix had agreed, “Do you remember the ball? Back at school?”    
  
Felix shrugged and gave her the littlest nod of acknowledgement. He did not like where this was going. Ingrid liked her stories, liked building things up in epithets and heightened metaphors until he wasn’t sure he experienced the same events.    
  
“Everyone asked Annette to dance. She’d just won the white heron cup, she was just about the most popular dancer after the actual royalty present. It seems like that’s continuing tonight.” Ingrid gestured to where she was twirling, her face catching the lantern light, enveloping her in a glow that certainly wasn’t fair. Nothing about how Annette looked while she was dancing was fair. And she wasn’t even using magic. 

Felix remembered the ball clearly. Annette insisted on saving a dance for each of her classmates, and pouted until Felix agreed to dance with her.    
  
He still thought about it sometimes. Her smiling up at him as they waltzed. The feel of his hands on her waist, so impossibly small. How she chatted in rhythm with the song, and huffed when he pointed it out. His upbringing got the better of him and he kissed her hand as they parted out of habit. 

He’d blushed so much at the contact that he left the ball and threw himself in a snowbank to cool off.    
  
Nobody needed to know that part. 

Felix feigned neutrality, “She’s talented, people ask her to dance.”    
  
Ingrid nudged him with her shoulder, and Felix realized too late that he didn’t recoil from the touch properly. “ _ You  _ should ask her to dance.” Ingrid insisted, tone circling around her usual bossiness. She was being nice, probably.    
  
“I don’t think so.”    
  
“You like her don’t you?”   
  
Just like Ingrid to come out and accuse him of something that was absolutely true. Damn her. Heat rose in his cheeks, and he scoffed.    
  
“That’s stupid. What?” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes, “Don’t play dumb, and don’t lie. You’re bad at it.”    
  
He still didn’t confirm anything, the words far too difficult to say. But Ingrid would sometimes  _ act _ and try to fix things and that would be far worse. He kept his eyes trained on Annette being led across the floor by Ashe. “Fine. So?” 

He could hear Ingrid’s self righteous grin as she said, “You’re not a bad dancer, if that’s what you’re worried about.”    
  
“It’s not.”    
  
Felix frowned in frustration. Were they done yet? Ingrid knew him well enough to guess at his crushes but missed the part where orders chafed his skin. He was a noble who’d been trained to dance from the time he could walk. Of course he could dance. He’d been called graceful by literally every sword instructor he’d ever had, even gruff old Faerghus military types. Even the professor noticed, asking him if he’d consider going for the White Heron Cup himself back in school. Felix was by all measures an excellent dancer.    
  
He could even do these kinds of things, folksy dances. Commoner dances. He’d been watching Annette- Dancers. The dancers. He’d been watching the dancers all night. 

The point remained: the steps were simple and he was pretty sure he’d be able to complete the dance and not embarrass himself if he had a partner.    
  
The partner was the issue. But Felix would sooner throw his sword into the lake than say that out loud. Too bad there weren’t any snowbanks this time of year.    
  
He settled on a truth, “I know I can dance Ingrid.”   
  
Ingrid smiled with encouragement and then gave him a less than gentle shove towards the stairs, “So go!”    
  
Felix caught himself on the edge of the wall before he fell and turned away from the party entirely. His mind flashed back to that afternoon and he shook his head to get the image out. 

“She won’t want me to. She yelled at me earlier.” His stomach soured. Annette yelling wasn’t anything new, it was literally part of her magical skillset, but today felt… personal. 

Ingrid didn’t miss a step, “Did you deserve it?”   
  
In his own mind he’d critiqued her. He’d won their bout and mentioned a simple way to improve. But Annette so easily created her own stories in her mind, exaggerated his words and intentions far beyond what he ever meant. He didn’t mind it so much, it was just confusing. He liked Annette much more than he liked most of his friends. He wasn’t trying to be mean to her.    
  
If anything it was like a game, a new form of battle or strategy. He could counter a lance or an axe, and dodge a magical attack with ease. He was simply learning the art of  _ Talking to Annette Without Getting Yelled At _ .    
  
Today he’d failed. Landed flat in the dirt, at least metaphorically, just as Annette had at the end of their spar.   
  
Did he deserve to get yelled at for failing with her so spectacularly? 

  
“Probably,” he mumbled. Ingrid watched them practice, how did she not  _ hear _ what happened? 

Ingrid entered his space once again, and he was struck by how much smaller she was than him. They’d been equal heights up until school, and her presence loomed so large. When did he stop noticing her? Was she so different in reality than his mind’s eye?    
  
“So apologize. And dance with her. And don’t embarrass her.”    
  
“I didn’t try to.”    
  
“Ahh so you did embarrass her. What did you say?” 

Felix blushed again, remembering his misstep. Annette was a battle of her own and he’d made a fatal error. Felix valued directness but Annette... 

Well, Annette danced. That was the problem, wasn’t it? 

“I mentioned that her clothes restricted her movement and she wouldn’t be able to maintain proper form dressed as she was.” Which it did. Annette’s favorite dress was better suited to a warlock or magic user. She couldn’t maintain proper sword form with how tight it was around her hips. Not that he was noticing how tight her dress was around her hips.    
  
Felix could feel Ingrid’s irritation before she even spoke, “You said that exactly?”    
  
“No.” 

“Felix what did you say?”    
  
“Her dress was too tight for fighting and she needed to think about function.”    
  
Ingrid took in a sharp puff of breath, “and... “ 

“That she needed to remember she was trained to use a sword and not just lean on magic because she’s better at it.” 

“FELIX. You idiot. You can’t just say that to someone.”    
  
“Well I know that now!” He tried to justify himself, feeling the muck of his own stupidity encompass him again, “I thought I was helping!” 

“Don’t help.”    
  
“She asked me to help,” he grumbled. 

Ingrid puffed out her cheeks, “I promised Mercedes I’d stop intervening every time one of the two of you messed up. So I’m not going to talk to Annette for you. So if you want to fix this, be a man and apologize.”    
  
“She won’t hear it! She always does this, she runs away when she’s angry with me. It’s been that way since we were teenagers and I heard…” 

“Heard what?”    
  
“Nothing. Ugh. Fine. I’ll go talk to her. Keep watch because I bet she’ll shove me in the pond.” 

  
“You can swim Felix.” Ingrid encouraged, shoving him once again towards the stairs to the party.    
  
Sylvain once told him that a dance floor was just like a battlefield. He’d rolled his eyes at the time but the metaphor crystallized into clarity as Felix tried to make his way to Annette. 

  
Did she have to be so hard to spot? He could pick her out of a crowd from his vantage point but down here it was warm and crowded and there was far too much movement. Just when he thought he caught a glimpse of her, the whole configuration on the floor would change. This was pointless, he was making a fool of herself.    
  


The song ended and lulled into the repetitive beats of partner changes, signals of what the next dance would be for those who knew well enough to lead. Once again the floor shifted in movement but at last he found her, shoving Ashe over to where some former Black Eagle’s students congregated. Felix walked as quickly as he could while still maintaining some semblance of dignity, catching her eye as he approached.    
  
Annette bounced on her heels as they met, giving him a skeptical look, “I thought you weren’t interested in parties?”    
  
Felix shrugged, “You looked like you were having fun. I figured I’d try it. See what the fuss is about.”    
  
This, thankfully, made her laugh. So far so good.    
  
“It’s really fun fuss. I’ll show you!” She grabbed his hand and led him out into the center of the floor. It always shocked him how easily Annette forgave, especially given her tendency to proclaim revenge and hatred forever.    
  
This dance was reminiscent of the others that evening, and Felix was able to pick it up after a few repetitions of the steps. Together, left, together, apart, two steps right, two steps left, together, back, and the whole group rotates and starts everything again. He wasn’t quite sure how the turns worked, but Annette easily guided him through each one. Court dances were rarely so athletic, more designed for private conversation and a cover to touch each other than cause actual merriment.    
  
This worked for him, actually. Dancing didn’t require him to figure out the right words. He could learn steps, move in rhythm with Annette, not annoy her because at least knew he wouldn’t mess this up. They made a good team, he thought, as she signaled that they would be turning left this time- the pattern still completely foreign to him. Did she practice or was she just naturally talented at this? The answer occurred to him as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Annette never did things by halves. If she was great at this, there was intention, meaning.    
  
She looked great up on the balcony, she was downright mesmerizing like this. He so rarely got to stand this close to her, to see how her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled. To see how her hair bounced to life as she moved. As they circled again it stuck to her face and before Felix could work up the courage to brush it out of her eyes she puffed up her cheeks and blew it out of her face with a force that seemed unnatural.    
  
How did she do that? She loved to sing, were her lungs so much stronger from that? Oh no, did this mean he would have to start going to choir practice?    
  
“Do that again.”    
  
Annette blinked at him, “Do what? Oh!” She threw her head back and laughed. “This?” And as they stepped back together she blew a strong breeze into his face.    
  
That shouldn’t have been as cute as it was, “Is that magic?”    
  
Annette laughed again and nodded her head. She ducked under him and spun as the music flourished and the dance ended. Dancers politely applauded but Felix was still staring at Annette, amazed.    
  
“Did you just cast a spell without a sigil?” He asked. Felix had been struggling with magic for years, resistant to spend too much time on it when it just felt so foreign and frankly he hated dropping his sword even for a moment to be able to cast. Range wasn’t worth being so unprotected in his book.    
  
Annette nodded again, “I mean it’s hardly a spell. More of a party trick.”   
  
“How did you learn that?”    
  
Annette let herself be escorted over to the side, leaning against a crate by the docks. “School of Sorcery, we learned a lot more about practical magic applications than battle magic. People were always coming up with little enchantments like that, this one was my favorite.”    
  
Annette had just cast magic without drawing a sigil, without speaking any words at all. She was incredible, so talented and brilliant that it left him awed. But Felix Fraldarius didn’t express awe, even to women like Annette. “It’s impressive.”    
  
She crinkled her nose, “Hardly. But thank you. You’re being nice to me tonight.”    
  
He was being nice to her all the time, not that she could see it when he failed so spectacularly. “I’m glad you think so.” 

She placed her hand on his shoulder, making him feel approval before she even voiced it, “I do think so. Is this how you’re trying to apologize for earlier?”    
  
Well she saw right through him didn’t she? Why did he try to say anything other than exactly what he thought while she was around? 

“I didn’t mean to insult you. I overstepped. Sorry. I won’t do it again.” Could it possibly be this easy? 

“My sword work is still an issue though. You don’t have to lie, I train with you because I want to get better. I’m not wasting your time Felix, you’d hate that.”    
  
“You’re improving.” And she was. Last month she picked up a sword for the first time after a five year reprieve, she was rusty. But Annette could do just about anything she put her mind to, he’d seen it himself.    
  
Annette wrapped her arms around herself, “I know. I just have so much to improve now. I didn’t think I’d be a Dancer again, you know? I just worked on reason. I had to do it quietly too, people were watching me. And I want to work on axes, on top of swords. And the professor wants anyone who can cast to do Faith now and it’s just… I’ve never been great at it and Mercie and Dorothea and Lysithea can all do it so easily and I just…”    
  
She looked up at him as he fumbled in the air for words. Was he supposed to help? That was too much, even he could see that. Did Annette ever sleep or rest at all? 

She took a deep breath and paused for a moment before shifting uncomfortably, “I’m rambling. I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear me complain.” 

He disagreed and decided the next move would be to try to compliment her, she seemed to react well to praise in the past, “It didn’t sound like you’re complaining. Everyone has high expectations of you.”    
  
This made Annette even more miserable, the compliment not landing as he had intended because nothing ever worked with Annette how he expected. “I know. And I want to meet them.” Something in her tone made it seem like she couldn’t, even without any evidence to the contrary. Felix was fairly sure Annette could do anything.    
  
“You will,” and because Felix was an idiot and couldn’t help himself because darn it he actually maybe cared about her he couldn't leave the statement and tacked on, “But don’t hurt yourself.”    
  
As the words left his mouth he tried not to flinch. They’d been getting along. He ruined this conversation just like he ruined every conversation with Annette because he was terrible at talking and he should just give up. 

But Annette, the real one, not the one in his mind surprised him, “I won’t! I stretch every morning and night.”    
  
If anyone else in his life were this dense, or avoidant, he’d be annoyed. Nothing Annette did was annoying though. He clarified his point, trying to give a suggestion that for once didn’t make him sound awful. “I mean that you need to rest. And take time for yourself.”    
  


Annette considered his advice and looked around quickly before she whispered, “I mean you know about my songs, those make me feel better.” 

A start. Good. “Do you want to sing right now?” He ignored the way his heart skipped as he requested it. Would… Would this end with her singing and letting him listen?    
  
“How dare you!” She smiled as she said it though, and Felix etched it into his memory. She was smiling at him, for him, at something he said.    
  
They were joking like friends about her secret songs. A first.    
  
The band started up again and Felix had a stroke of inspiration that years later he’d chalk up to nothing but divine intervention. Because Felix Fraldarius did not dance. But Annette Dominic did.    
  
“Do you want to dance?” He held out his hand like he’d been instructed to even though nothing about this was formal. This was a casual dance, a way for everyone to blow of steam. It was silly and pointless and had no place at a base of war.    
  
It was the only thing that made any of them feel better.    
  
“I would love to.” Annette grabbed his hand and Felix sparked at the contact. They joined the dancers again. Felix learned to listen for the dancers who called out instructions, something he completely missed during their first dance. They spun and shuffled together until the band called it a night.

  
He led her home, still holding her hand even though  _ that _ certainly wasn’t any display of courtly decorum. She initiated and he certainly wasn’t complaining about the extra contact.    
  
He climbed the stairs to the upper level of the dormitory and collapsed into bed. No wonder the Dancers trained so much. Right before he fell asleep, Felix realized she hadn’t had any other partners after he showed up. She’d been changing partners all night, she’d danced with a dozen of their comrades before he showed up. But once he asked her to dance she’d stuck to one. Just him.    
  
It probably didn’t mean anything. 

**Author's Note:**

> Felix eventually learns to talk to Annette, but I have other fics if you want that. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
